Proper 14B, August 12, 2018
2 Samuel 18:5-9, 15, 31-33; Psalm 130
Ephesians 4:25-5:2; John 6:35, 41-51
St. Thomas the Apostle
The Rev’d Leo Loyola
A woman named Sandy was upset with her husband. She felt as if Harry wasn’t spending enough time with their son. And so she wrote him a poem.
Inspiration for this poem came from observing the awkward relationship between her previous husband James and his father John.
John was one of eleven children. Although he didn’t pass the fifth grade, John was the epitome of a Horatio Algiers’ rags-to-riches story.
He started a furniture company out of nothing, and built it up into a successful business. He later went into politics and served as borough president of Brooklyn for 25 years.
But despite his success, John had one great regret. He always wanted to be a judge, considering it the most honorable of professions. But because of his lack of education, he could never become one.
And so he decided to live his dream vicariously through his son. He began engineering James’s life and career until he achieved judgeship.
When James went to college, John gave him a country club membership, a swanky baby blue car and plenty of credit cards. John used his connections to get James into law school. And once James was ready for the bar, John arranged for James to be sworn into service the very day of the exam.
And what did James have to say about all this?
He absolutely hated it.
He felt as if his life was a fix. His father’s dreams were not his own. And though he was accomplished at so many things, James grew up having no sense of himself.
Years later after Sandy and James married, the awkwardness between father and son became apparent.
During one dinner, Sandy recalls John leaning over to her, saying “Tell Jimmy I’d like him to show up at the club on Tuesday.” And James was sitting right across from him!
For Sandy, this relationship was the most incredible thing. It wasn’t that they weren’t on speaking terms. In fact, they were quite polite to one another. But there was simply no real communication between them.
With that whole experience in mind, Sandy wrote her heartfelt poem, not wanting the same thing to happen between Harry and son.
And as Harry read the poem, she felt a kick in the gut, as he tossed it to the side, and went on with his day.
Who would ever believe that that poem would one year later serve as the inspiration to Harry Chapin’s 1974 hit Cat’s in the Cradle?
Years later, when asked about the song and the poem that inspired it, Sandy reflected:
The whole point of the story is that we learn our lessons in life by making mistakes, by trial and error, by experience. It would be great if we could learn about the future ahead of time, but we have to learn the hard way. It’s like the old saying ‘too old too soon; too wise too late’.
Our reading from Ephesians is thematically like Cat’s in the Cradle.
When Paul wrote to the Ephesians, he didn’t have the atheists or unbelievers among them in mind. He was addressing those who followed Christ, those who believed in Christ, those who were devoted to follow his ways.
And yet Paul recognized a wide disconnect between how they presented themselves in church with their behaviors outside of it.
Once church was over, they returned to their households, slipping back to their old ways.
They reverted to openly telling lies and other fake news about their neighbor.
They still let their anger consume them.
They still stole from others, rather than working honestly for their keep.
They still spoke ill of others, cutting them at the knees with their tongue, rather than forgiving them of their trespasses.
They still felt bitterness, wrath, anger and all kinds of hate-filled things towards one another.
Sunday rolls along, and things repeat themselves.
The Ephesians probably didn’t think anything was wrong. Perhaps they thought they could just show up to church, be nice and polite with everyone, pray for the forgiveness of their sins, and God would wipe the mark off their permanent record.
But the apostle Paul felt differently.
As a man whose own journey began with the realization that his actions against Christians ultimately displeased God, Paul understood the long-term effects of their actions on their own household.
If a so-called Christian father had no qualms about lying or stealing or backstabbing their neighbor, surely their children would think it okay to mimic what their father did.
Or if a so-called Christian mother expressed bitterness or anger or ill-will against their neighbor, surely their children would think it okay to follow their ways.
Like father, like son. Like mother, like daughter.
Or as Harry Chapin’s verse hauntingly ends: “And as he grew he’d say ‘I’m gonna be like you, dad. You know I’m gonna be like you.’”
As any parent knows, the parent ultimately sets the example for their child. Our children imitate us, and our ways will likely become their ways.
So as followers of Christ, it’s understandable when Paul urged these Ephesians to:
Be imitators of Christ, as beloved children, and live in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God (Eph. 5:1-2)
In doing so, our children learn the love of Christ, enabling their children and their children’s children to model this love for future generations.
In the same way, we at Saint Thomas also share in this responsibility to be imitators of Christ for future generations.
Sure, we aren’t necessarily packed with young, impressionable children at the moment. And even though we live in a time when Christianity is no longer the dominant influencer upon our culture, we are still responsible.
We live in a time when fellow Christians redefine our faith to fit their political agenda, claiming that only they are true Christians.
We live in a time when young people are leaving the church for various avoidable reasons. Many say we Christians as a whole are hypocritical. Many say that we are unloving. Many say that we are anti-science and anti-intellectualists. Many say that the teachings of our faith no longer matter.
We must ask ourselves, “Why must we allow things to be this way?”
With all this negativity, yes, it is sometimes discouraging for us to even share our faith with others for fear of being shut down. Who wants the abuse?
And yet consider the alternative: if we don’t model Christ with others, who will?
When it comes to sharing the love of Christ with future generations, let us not be like the absent parent in Harry Chapin’s last verse:
I’ve long since retired and my son’s moved away
I called him up just the other day
I said, I’d like to see you if you don’t mind
He said, I’d love to, dad, if I could find the time
You see, my new job’s a hassle, and the kids have the flu
But it’s sure nice talking to you, dad
It’s been sure nice talking to you
And as I hung up the phone, it occurred to me
He’d grown up just like me
My boy was just like me
May God give us the bold courage to be imitators of Christ with those we love, with those we don’t and with those who just don’t care.
May God give us the strength to help shape the lives of future generations. Amen.
